Angelic
by GlassSerendipity
Summary: Sort of Charlie's Angels AU. Three former police officers scorned by the system team up under the patronage of a wealthy investor in order to serve justice, be badass, and look sexy doing it. They get more than they bargained for as they uncover more than just secrets in their investigations. Fem!BTT. Established PruCan. Spamano. FrUK. I like to change names.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Not sure when I'll get around to writing this story. Blame Potatopasta for getting it stuck in my head.

May 3rd 13:30- The Rhine Restuarant

Jules had been running a couple of minutes late. Traffic had been awful. Somehow, she knew it was the wrong choice to take the time to change out of her uniform, but the restuarant had a dress code. She tucked a loose strand of platinum hair behind her ear and approached the maitre d'. She put on a charming smile and hoped there wasn't going to be a scene this time.

"Hi! I'm supposed to be meeting someone for lunch," she said.

"Name?" he drawled out lazily in a snobby accent.

"Jules," she said simply, as if he was supposed to know who she was. "Or Julia Bielschmidt. Whichever is on your fancy list." She was really trying to play up the charm.

She saw him glance through his list without really reading it.

"Sorry, ma'am, but it appears you are not on the list," he said.

Jules could feel her teeth grit through her smile. "Really? How strange. Not even under Westley Bielschmidt?"

He scoffed. "You expect me to believe you're related to THE Westley Bielschmidt?"

"Yes." Jules was starting to lose her patience. This seemed to happen every time. "He should be on your list."

"Westley Bielschmidt is on every list. He owns half the city. I know Westley Bielschmidt," the maitre d' bragged. "And there's no way his wife would wear a dress from two seasons ago or shoes from three."

"Maybe not, but my sister can dress however she wants," a deep voice interrupted.

Westley Bielschmidt looked immaculate in a crisp suit. He was tall, buff, and unintentionally intimidating. His blond hair was neatly gelled back under a pound of product.

The maitre d' nearly collapsed. Jules grinned at the sight of her brother and linked elbows with him. "Half the city? You've been doing pretty well for yourself, huh West."

"An exaggeration," Westley said, leading his sister to their table. "But not by much."

"Then, taking your poor, old sis out to lunch is practically a charity event for you," she teased. "So what? Were you too embarrassed to put me on the list? Or did you not want all your corrupt CEO friends to know your big sis is a cop?"

"Trust me, they're not my friends. Congratulations on graduating from the police academy. How's the service treating you?"

Jules sighed as she sat down. She ran her finger over the rim of her glass of water. "Honestly? The cops here are a bunch of pigs. Sexist. Corrupt. It's no wonder people get away with what they do. I stand up for justice, call out my boss's bullshit, and they put me on meter maid duty. Same thing with the other new girls. Great female police officers forced to be secretaries and crossing guards. It's like we graduated top of the class for nothing."

"Have you ever considered a change in scenery?" Westley sat down across from her.

Jules sighed and looked out at the million dollar scene from the window. Blue skies, skyscrapers, and palm trees for as far as the eye could see. "I love this city too much. And you're here, so that's a plus. I know you'll just tell me to keep my nose to the grindstone, and they'll recognize my abilities, but it gets so frustrating sometimes."

"That's a nice sentiment, but that wasn't what I was going to suggest at all," Westley said. "Have you ever considered work in the private sector?"

Jules snapped her head to look at her brother. "Like a bodyguard? Come on, you know I need more action than that. And no way I'm going to take blows for some corrupt businessman or politician."

"I was thinking more along the lines of a private investigator. For a businessman not so corrupt."

Jules studied her brother carefully. "Just what are you suggesting, baby bro?"

"I can't take down this city's corruption on my own. I'm putting together a task force to topple this regime one leg at a time," he said.

Jules grinned. "I'm not sure I'm convinced. I raised you to be pretty capable. You could do this on your own. Be a real life Batman. Why me?"

"I already have a job. I simply don't have the time to do all I want to accomplish in a reasonable time frame. I'm only one man. However, I've worked hard to gain some financial means to pay a small team of professionals to gather the information and take down some of the worst members of society."

"Well, I'm listening. What's the first leg?"

"Human trafficking," Westley said.

Jules felt a sympathetic pain in her chest. "Oh West..."

"I need to know what happened to her. I need to stop the people who continue to take innocent girls like her and give them the justice they've been denied." Westley's face was stoic and composed as he brushed off her sympathy, but Jules knew that there was deeply engraved pain. She didn't expect he could ever get over her.

Jules picked up her drink and took a sip. "You certainly don't start small, do you?"

"Are you in?" he asked.

Jules set down her glass. "This elite task force of yours. They need to be the best of the best. The best investigators, the best manipulators. People who can work together flawlessly and look sexy while doing it."

"Sexy definitely is a plus for the sort of people I'm meaning to deal with. I take it you already have an idea?"

May 3rd 22:03- Eastland Apartments

Jules got back to her apartment exhausted. Her lunch with her brother had gone long, which meant she had to put in extra hours at the station. Not to mention nearly every male officer stopped to catcall and whistle at her while she was stuck writing reports in a dress. She couldn't wait to quit her job, but first, she had to find a way to convince the other two.

She picked up the scent of something cooking. With her keen detective skills, she knew there was only one possible explanation.

"Babe, you are an absolute angel." She trudged over to the kitchen and wrapped her arms around the man slaving over the stove. "Please tell me you've made enough for me as well."

"Of course, I did," Matthew said. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't have dinner ready when my girlfriend got home?"

Jules felt up her boyfriend over his cable knit sweater. He was surprisingly built for a pencil pusher. Definitely not what'd you would expect from a man most people wouldn't give a second glance. But Jules had seen past glasses and meek body language and fell in love with his kind nature, honey blonde hair, and violet-blue eyes. He always surprised her in the best of ways, exceeding expectations every time. He was a safe haven from the cold, cruel world. "Where have you been all my life?"

Matthew laughed. "Go sit down. I'll bring the food to the table."

Jules obeyed after giving his tight rear end a good smack. Matthew soon followed bearing a feast of pancakes and other breakfast items. He set down her plate and kissed her face. "How was your day?"

"Ugh," Jules groaned. "Terrible. I want to quit. Got to eat lunch with my brother though. He had an interesting proposition for me. I think he wants to hire me to be a spy to help take down the city's corruption. And I think I just might do it."

Matthew nearly choked on his water. "Really?"

"What? Don't think I can?" Jules challenged.

"Spies don't usually tell other people that they're spies," Matthew prodded dubiously.

"Yeah, but I trust you to keep my secret." She batted her eyelashes at him. "I know you wouldn't want anything bad to happen to me."

"No, I don't. And this sounds really dangerous, Jules. Are you sure?"

Jules shrugged. "It's no more dangerous than being a cop. I feel like I was made to do it, Matt. I can't serve justice with the system being the way that it is. Plus, this is something that is really important to my brother. And to me. I really would like your support in this."

"You have my support. But that doesn't mean I won't be worried about you all the time," Matt said, taking a bite of his pancakes.

Jules started to smile dreamily. "Remember the night we first met?"

"You mean the night you singlehandedly took down a gang boss and his personal entourage? A little hard to forget."

"How a guy like you got caught up in a place like that, I will never understand. Maybe it was fate bringing us together," Jules cooed.

"I'm still surprised you noticed me, let alone asked me out," Matthew said.

"Of course, I noticed you. You were the hottest guy in the bar. And it was the least I could do after ruining your night."

"You didn't ruin my night," Matthew said, a wistful look in his eyes. "I know how strong and smart you are, Jules. Can you at least promise me that you'll be careful?"

"Of course! And if it makes you feel any better, I won't be doing it alone. I-"

"Shh, say no more. The less I know, the better, right? Eat your pancakes, or I'm going to start the next Law and Order episode without you," he threatened.

Jules scarfed down her pancakes and raced Matthew over to the couch. The rest of their night was calm and sweet, nestled in love and reveling in the hope of justice.


	2. Chapter 2

May 4th 12:13 pm - Las Bellas Police Station #3

Marianne took pride in a lot of things. Her looks. Her investigational skills. Her ability to easily break the fingers of anyone who tried to touch her without her permission. She had talents in a plethora of skills. Even at being a secretary. But this was one position she didn't take pride in.

Every day gave a battlefield level of stress, but obviously not from difficulty in performing her secretarial duties. It was the frustration of turning down every fast pass and snide comment her fellow officers sent her way. It was the fury that every case she filed away, she knew she could have solved it quicker and better than the vast majority of her peers.

Despite all of this, it wouldn't stop her from dressing up every day, looking her best, and putting her best, high heeled foot forward. To sit behind a desk all day. And being talked down to and underestimated by everyone she came across.

She tucked her golden hair behind her ear as she read one of the cold cases. A 14-year-old girl who had disappeared nearly two years earlier. She had mysteriously gone missing after school like too many of the unsolved cases. Definitely a pattern and definitely indicative of blatantly ignored human trafficking.

"Marianne, I pay you to sit there and look pretty. Not waste your time looking at cold cases," the chief of police said, finally unlocking his office to begin the workday.

"Chief," Marianne said as she stood. She swallowed back the bit of bile in her throat as she watched her boss look her over as if she was a piece of meat. "I don't think these cases are cold."

"We put our best detectives on those cases, " the chief defended.

Wrong, Marianne thought. "You could transfer the cases to me. It'd at least give them a chance to be solved and for the families of these girls to get some closure," she argued.

"No, you're needed too much here." He closed the door behind him.

Marianne quietly fumed. If she spent another day wasting her time behind a desk, she'd end it all. She decided it was time to use her secret weapon. She fished through her purse and took out her lipstick and a compact. She applied a new coat and steeled herself in preparation to seduce the chief-of-police to get her way. He was married, but she knew that had never stopped him before. A high-stress job meant he was in need of spontaneity and release. She could tease him into thinking that she could his secretary with benefits if he actually let her take on a case. Not that she'd actually sleep with the sleazeball. She'd quit before things went to that.

Marianne got distracted when Officer Bielschmidt entered the station. Normally, Jules would wear her uniform when making her rounds, but today she appeared in black combat boots, skinny jeans, and fitted leather jacket, looking like she had won the lottery. Marianne pouted.

"Isn't it a great day, Marianne?" Jules greeted her, unnaturally cheerily.

"Why are you so happy? You're late. You look like afterglow and I hate it, " Marianne complained.

Jules grinned like she had swallowed a canary. "Matthew stayed over last night. We took a little longer getting up this morning."

"God, I wish that were me..." Marianne had her suspicions about Jules' "boyfriend," but it was obvious the sex they were having was phenomenal. Marianne hadn't had good sex in ages.

"Is the chief in yet?" Jules asked.

Marianne nodded. "He's gonna be pissed that you're late. Want me to fudge the numbers?" she offered.

Jules shook her head. "Let him be pissed. Today's my last day anyway."

Marianne went on high alert. She and known Jules since their days in the academy. There was no way she'd give up just like that. "Please don't tell me you're quitting because of your boyfriend."

"Nope. I got a better offer." Jules leaned over the desk to speak into Marianne's ear. "Let me know if you actually want to use your skills and make a difference."

Marianne studied her friend. She really didn't seem like the type to lie. She was a justice-junkie. Marianne had to wonder what kind of sweet deal she had to have taken. "Does it pay well?"

"Oh honey, you have no idea." Jules put on a pair of sunglasses. "Now watch this."

Jules tried to open the chief's door, but it was locked. She kicked at the eave and it opened in one go. Safe to say, the chief was a little more than startled. He scrambled with something under the desk.

"Damn it, Officer Bielschmidt, knock! Why aren't you out in the field?" He yelled.

Jules pointed at him. "Chief, you stupid son of a bitch. Fuck you and fuck your door." She gave him the bird. "Consider this my resignation. Effective immediately."

Jules turned around and faced Marianne again. She placed a stack of cash on the desk. "For the door."

Marianne was shocked and a little turned on. How long she had wanted to quit like that. She didn't need to think it over much. She trusted Jules more than she trusted pretty much anyone else here. If her heart and instinct was telling her to leave, then go damn it, she'd quit too.

Marianne, having a bit more class than Jules, went into the chief's office. She attempted to shut the door behind her, but the door was unable to close all of the way.

"That bitch..." The chief finally composed himself to stand up and place his hands on his hips. "Marianne, get my contacts. I'm making sure that Bielschmidt never gets a job in this city again."

"She did give you plenty of opportunities to assign her to a more appropriate position. It's what you get for not appreciating what you had. In fact, I'd like a little appreciation myself."

"Bonnefoy, what are you talking about?"

Marianne sat down on top of his desk. Her skirt oh so slightly slid further up her thigh. She knew she had the chief's attention.

"Do you have any idea the lengths I go to for you? Balancing the books, manipulating the story, making our district and you look good," she said in a low, husky voice. She drew him in. She took off her police badge from her blouse, popping open one button, and placed the badge on the desk. "All the while, you're cozy in here, touching yourself while looking at me through your little window. Don't think I haven't noticed."

The chief placed his hands on either side of her. She could feel his hot breath on her skin. "So, you'd like me to appreciate you, huh? And what would the best God damn secretary like me to do for her?"

Marianne moved her face at the last moment to prevent the chief from smashing his lips on hers. "I'm not your God damn secretary."

She uncrossed her legs, kicking him in the balls in the process. He keeled over.

"I'm the best God damn detective in this precinct." She kissed his cheek, leaving a perfect pink lip stain. "Consider this my resignation. Effective immediately."

The chief didn't have the ability to say anything to make her stay, so she grabbed her purse from behind her desk and left the station.

Jules was waiting for her at the curb. "Took you long enough."

"Someone had to grab some insurance." Marianne revealed the backup files of the original reports she had stolen from the police chief's desk.

"Any idea where Carmen might be?" Jules asked

"Probably moonlighting by now. Is she your next recruit? She's going to be hard to catch."

"Oh, I think she'll be really easy once she sees this."

Parked in one of the five-minute parking spots was a bright red Ferrari, brand new.

"Just who is your sponsor?" Marianne asked dubiously.

Jules unlocked the doors and hopped into the driver's seat. "Let's call him Charlie."


	3. Chapter 3

May 4th 12:30 pm- Las Bellas Public Beach #3

Carmen spread a new layer of sunscreen on her chest. She adjusted her binoculars so she could reach the tops of her breasts. The deep cut of her red swimsuit left her skin bronzed in the sun. It was beginning to warm up, so a slight sheen of sweat left her skin glistening. She checked the coastline from up on her perch, overlooking the beachgoers. She saw a group of boys playing in the water, jumping into the waves as they crashed into the shore. One of them was clearly younger than the others as he was struggling to keep his head above water as his friends ventured further out into the ocean.

Carmen gave two sharp blows of her whistle. "Hey kid, don't go any further out!" she warned.

His friends simply laughed, not sure which boy she was talking to. They teased amongst themselves, the boy she was concerned about hung back a bit, trying to avoid the onslaught of water.

Carmen checked the time on her phone. It was almost time for her to get going. She had an important job to do, and the next lifeguard should be relieving her at any moment.

She checked the ocean once more. The group of boys was still playing in the water, minus the younger one. Her pulse quickened as she quickly checked the shore. No sign of him. She took her binoculars and scanned the water. She was barely able to catch the flailing hand poking above the surface impossibly far away from where she had last seen the boy. Riptide.

She laid on her whistle and jumped off the stand. As she ran towards the water, everything seemed to go in slow motion. When she got this adrenaline rush, she became hyper-aware of her surroundings. She yelled for everyone to get out of the water right before she dove into the waves. She caught the current and followed it out to where the boy was struggling to stay afloat. She latched him on to the life preserver and pulled his head above water.

"Don't fight it!" she instructed. As the current pulled them further from shore, Carmen started swimming parallel to the beach. Once she no longer felt the oceans pull, she dragged the boy back to shore.

She got him onto the sand and noticed he wasn't breathing. She checked for a pulse at his carotid artery. Still there.

Without a second thought, she pinched his nose and lifted his chin. She sealed her lips around his mouth and exhaled until she saw his chest rise. Once. Twice. Three times. Finally, he sputtered, coughing up a bit of seawater.

The small crowd that had gathered cheered. The boy's mother pushed past some of the bystanders. "Stop! What do you think you're doing?"

"Giving your son air. I just saved him from a riptide. Weren't you watching him?"

She scoffed. "That's what your job is. Not sexually assaulting my son."

The boy had gotten up and rejoined his friends. She overheard them saying something about how he was so lucky that he got to kiss the hot lifeguard.

"I was saving his life." Great, she thought. Now her hair was wet.

"I'm getting you fired, and I'm calling the police," the mother threatened.

Carmen sighed and pulled a badge out from between her breasts. "I am the police."

Once she saw that her replacement was at the chair, she put her badge back and headed back towards the showers to rinse off the sand and salt.

May 4th 3:00 pm- Las Bellas Middle School

Carmen's real job was being a crossing guard at the middle school. While others might think this was a throwaway position, Carmen could think of nothing better than the protection and safety of these students. At first glance, the job seemed mundane and introductory. Any kind of security officer could do it, not just one of the top graduates of the police academy. And sure, she was probably overqualified, but one could never tell when danger could strike. Over the past few decades, there had been a trend in Las Bellas of girls getting kidnapped right in front of their schools. In theory, Carmen was in the perfect place for apprehension.

She became familiar with which cars picked up which students. She studied the day to day traffic flow of both students and cars. When something was off, she knew it. One car, in particular, lingered a bit too long. It was parked not too far away from the soccer practice field, where the girl's team was warming up. Once there was a lull in the girls crossing the street, she approached the car.

The guy in the driver's seat peered up at the girls writing something on a little notebook.

She knocked on his window, her neon yellow crossing guard vest still visible. He rolled down his window after eyeing her for a moment, she put on a bright smile.

"Sorry to bother you. Which one is yours?"

"Ah, number 13. The short one with the pigtails."

"Oh, Madison? She's a sweetheart," Carmen said.

"Yeah," he smiled back, falling too easily for Carmen's honey trap. "I imagine we'll be beating back the boys with a stick in a few years."

"I'm sure. The thing is number 13 isn't Madison. There's no one on the team by that name..."

"But I..."

"And you aren't on any list for any student at the school on the approved pick up list. Not only that, but you're blocking one of the crosswalks, so I'm going to ask you to leave."

He had the good mind to flush red and mutter something under his breath as he rolled up his window. He sped off as soon as he was able, nearly running over Carmen's toes. She looked out to where he drove off, already memorizing the make, model, and license plate of his crappy car. She fished out her phone, unblinking and called the precinct.

The phone rang for an impossibly long time. Carmen wonder what was holding Marianne up.

"Las Bellas Police Department," came the gruff voice of her boss.

"Cheif..." Carmen bristled. Her boss never answered the phone. This could be her stroke of luck. "I think I've got another lead on the suspect for the kidnapping cases. Metallic gray Honda Accord 2005 license plate 5ME798. The driver was a man in his early forties, brown-haired and a scar on his left hand right below the knuckle of his index finger."

It took a moment before the chief responded. "That doesn't sound like a lot to go on Carriedo."

"He was staring at the girl's soccer team. He's not a guardian to any of them."

"Then he was probably just a run of the mill pedophile. Look, I don't have time to look into every single person that has the hots for underage girls."

"But Chief..."

"Just get your butt back to the precinct."

Carmen tore off the vest in frustration with a satisfying rip of Velcro. The girls were nearing the edge of the field as they ran their laps.

"Get those fu-heckin knees higher ladies. My grandma has more energy than that!" came the voice of the assistant coach. Carmen smoothed down her hair, knowing all too well that it was a curly, frizzy mess after her dip in the ocean. His mid-thigh shorts flounced as he came running after the girls. Carmen harbored an embarrassing crush on him even though the closest she had ever gotten was the middle of the street. His hair was brown but flashed with hints of a dark red in the sunlight. His skin was a golden, olive tan from being outside with the team. She imagined he was just a tiny bit shorter than her, but that didn't matter so much. His cute ass did. How she loved catching a glimpse of him running around, though she never had the nerve to approach while she was on the clock. Their eyes met for the first time, and Carmen's heart about stopped. She couldn't tell if he scowled or smirked at her as he ran away.

Carmen put a hand to her chest, preparing for palpitations. The only thing that could manage to turn her head was the purr of an engine. A sports car in fact. It purred so perfectly she knew no one in this school district could afford it.

When she looked back, she saw her two best friends. Jules in the driver's seat and Mariane riding shotgun. She could feel the heat of jealousy. The convertible was her favorite shade of red. Bright and ostentatious.

"What are you two doing?" She chastised them. "Where did you get that car?"

"From our new employer," Jules answered with a grin.

Marianne raised her eyebrows suggestively. "You want in?"

The temptation was almost too great. "Is that why you weren't answering the phone. You quit?" She started to walk away, vest in hand. She clenched. Work was going to be a lot more difficult without the two of them. She started to walk away. She could manage.

Jules drove slowly beside her. "Oh come on. Don't think of it as quitting. It's like a reassignment. Just not within the police."

"One where we can actually use our skills and make difference," Marianne added.

"I can do that now," Carmen shot back stubbornly. Deep in her heart, she knew that may not be quite true.

She walked a bit more before Jules quipped. "Did I mention the pay is a lot more?"

Carmen stopped dead in her tracks. "How much more?"

Jules slammed on the breaks, causing the tires to squeal in protest. "A hundred times more than what we're getting. And perks."

Carmen tapped her foot. She threw the vest into a trash bin and marched over to the driver's side. "Move," she commanded.

Jules threw it in park and crawled to the back seat. Carmen opened the door and slid behind the wheel, reveling in the feel of Italian leather.

She sighed in satisfaction. "I can't believe you two are dragging me into this." She had never sounded happier about losing her job security.

Jules laughed. "You haven't even heard what the job is!"

"Never mind that, who was the snack you were gawking at." Marianne lowered her sunglasses and took a sip from her Starbucks.

"You stay away from him," Carmen said, shifting the car into drive.

"Someone sounds jealous. No wonder you liked being a crossing guard."

Carmen ignored that and pealed off, unsure of where her friends were leading her next, but sure as hell it'd be one hell of a ride.


	4. Chapter 4

May 4th, 4:30 pm - Charles Townsend Detective Agency office

Marianne and Carmen studied the seemingly normal office door. They knew all too well that things were hardly ever as they seemed in this city. Jules, on the other hand, strode right up to the front door. Without knocking or ringing the doorbell, she turned the handle and it opened.

She looked back at her fellow agents. "You guys just gonna stand there or are you coming in?"

Marianne frowned but followed. "When you explained the job, Jules, I was imagining something a bit more stealthy."

"At least you got an explanation, " Carmen said, trailing behind. She closed the door behind them.

The three of them explored the office. It was clean and fashionable. White glass with metallic accents. Everything had a sleek and refined feeling.

Eventually, they got to a desk with three monitors. There was a man sitting in a chair facing away from the trio. His blond hair was just visible over the high leather back.

"Charlie, I presume?" Marianne asked. Her hand inched closer to the gun hidden on her thigh just in case.

The man swiveled around. He eyed the trio, unimpressed and unsurprised by their sudden appearance. "No, Marianne. I'm Charlie's right-hand man. My name is Basch Zwingli." He had chin-length blond hair. He wasn't unattractive, but his stern face didn't allow much for affection. "I'll be your point of contact with him."

Jules looked surprised instead. "Oh. Does Charlie not trust us?"

"It's a security measure," he said in a bored tone. "Mr. Townsend is a man with a lot of enemies. Certain interests of his would be in danger if they knew his identity."

"I've never heard of a Charles Townsend, " Marianne said suspiciously. "At least not one with the influence you claim he has."

"Of course you wouldn't, " he said grumpily. "Any other comments or shall we get started?"

"Can I call you Bosley?" Carmen asked. "I figured since we're making up names for people, we might as well call you something a little easier to remember."

"Carmen!" Jules chastised her friend. "That's prejudiced."

"I couldn't care less, " Bosley said. "What I do care about is wasting Charlie's time."

With that, he pressed a button on his keyboard lighting up a TV on the wall.

Westley was backlit, sending dark shadows over his fade, making him unrecognizable. "Good evening, ladies."

"Evening, Charlie, " Jules couldn't help but say it with a grin.

"I suppose you all want an explanation regarding this operation, " he started. "It's no secret this city is corrupt. The oligarchs running it have enumerated too many sins to be redeemed by ordinary means. Therefore, I've assembled the three of you to bring them down by extraordinary means. You ladies have a set of skills that can save the innocent and rain down vengeance on the wrongdoers of this community. The trafficking has gone on for too long and something must be done. I'll be the first client of this agency to find out what's happened to these girls and bring justice for them and their families. This is Operation Angels. You three are the angels."

Marianne rolled her eyes. She was sick of nicknames like this.

Carmen thought about it for a bit. "So angels in the biblical sense. Beautiful, powerful, terrifying..."

"Precisely, Carmen."

"I agree. I'm sure any same person would believe trafficking is wrong. That doesn't change the fact no one's been able to find a lead."

"Ooh!" Carmen raised her hand. "I saw a mysterious car at the middle school today. Metallic gray Honda Accord 2005 license plate 5ME798. Dude driving it was a total creep."

Jules laid out on one of the couches. "That's pretty vague, Carmen."

"Basch..." Charlie prompted.

"On it." Bosley typed away behind his three monitors.

"I've been able to find on my end a company that holds the dock records for Las Bellas on a bit too tight of a leash. Our first step is for you three to infiltrate that company and find out what they've really been exporting."

"You think they're shipping the girls out in crates?" Marianne asked, moderately impressed. "How do we get in?"

"It just so happens they're having a hiring event. According to hiring reports, the boss seems to have a preference for hiring young attractive females. That demographic is 80% of the new hires over the past five years."

"What a creep..." Marianne said. I'll forward you the information.

"I want you to take tonight to become familiar with the company and the technology I'll be sending you in with. Basch can fill you in with any additional info you may need."

"I'll expect you all to find the place on your own. Everything else you may need will be in your kit as well as a self-erasing set of instructions. I don't think I have to tell you three twice to look presentable."

"Nope." Marianne grabbed one of the kits. "Are we done?"

"Yes. I look forward to hearing about what you find. Goodnight, Angels."

"Goodnight, Charlie, " Jules said, Carmen echoing after.

* * *

"Are you sure I can keep the car?" Carmen asked after they dropped off Marianne.

"Yep. We've got to get around somehow. Consider it a bonus.

Carmen couldn't conceal her pleasure.

Jules' phone started to ring. "Mind if I take this?"

"Sure."

"Hey babe... Yeah, I'll be home soon... A date? Haven't been on one of those in a while... 8 sounds great. Bye, see you soon!"

It didn't take her considerable detective skills to notice Jules' giddiness.

"That was Matthew?" Carmen asked.

"Yeah, he wants to take me out tonight. I feel bad because it seemed like we never had much time together in the real world. It'll be like the first time we've gone somewhere that operated during normal business hours and not a sleazy open 24/7 place."

"That's something." Carmen thought carefully about how she would word this next part. "You guys seem like you got awful serious awful fast."

"Yeah, it's been kind of a whirlwind. But when you know, you know, right?"

"Right, but... I'm worried that you don't have the experience."

"To what? Tell when someone is taking advantage of me? I'm not stupid. Matthew has never asked anything from me. Not money, not favors, not secrets. He sees me for who I am and still puts up with my craziness." Jules grinned.

"Just be careful, Jules. We worry about you sometimes."

Jules was unfazed. "You guys will get it when you actually meet him. Matthew is just a perfectly normal man with a perfectly boring life who just so happens to like me and all my abnormalities. If anything, you should worry I'll mess him up."

* * *

May 4th, 8:30 pm- Poisson Rouge

"You know, I never figured you were a French restaurant kind of guy," Jules said.

Matt had worn a suit and slicked his hair back. It was easy to tell he wasn't used to dressing up by the way he fidgeted with his ill-fitting jacket. The curls from his hair were starting to break free even this early in the evening. His tie was crooked and blue, just the right color to bring out his eyes.

"It is a special occasion, " he stammered. He looked over Jules once more. "Have I mentioned how beautiful you look?"

Jules beamed and coyly pushed her silky straight hair behind her shoulder, revealing the deep neckline and thin straps of her red dress. "Only about ten times."

"Then that's not nearly enough. You're glowing."

"I'm happy, Matthew. I'm really looking forward to this new chapter."

"And I'm happy that you're happy. I just can't help but be worried, too."

"Surprisingly, you're not the only one." Jules took a sip of her wine. "Strange how both you and my friends decided now is the time to worry about me. It's far too late to fix me now," she laughed to herself.

Matthew contemplated his glass of wine. "Have you ever considered settling down?"

"Yeah, absolutely. Dogs, husband, children, little cottage nestled in the woods or smack dab in suburbia. Never thought I'd actually reach a point to follow through with it, but that's the dream." She studied Matthew. "Does that intimidate you?"

Matthew exuded warmth. "Not at all Jules." he held her hand over the table. "Strangely, I think it would suit you."

"Here's a question for you, then. Have you considered fully moving in with me? It makes no sense for you to keep a whole separate apartment when you spend the majority of time at my place."

Matthew sat back. "I've considered it. But there's a lot of stuff I need to take care of from my place. I'm just not ready to leave there yet."

"Then... Would you want me to stay over there sometimes? Split the difference?" Jules offered.

Matthew laughed. "No. Absolutely not. You'd hate my place. There's like nothing there. You'd be bored."

"I wouldn't be there for the amenities, Matthew. I'd be there for you. Trust me, you're plenty of entertainment for me."

"Either way, I much prefer your place."

Jules shrugged. "Suit yourself."

* * *

They wined and dined until they were satisfied. Tipsy with satisfaction, Matthew brought Jules back to her apartment. He held her from behind as she got her keys and unlocked her front door. He held her hair aside and kissed the soft bare skin of her exposed neck and shoulders.

"That was nice. We should do this more often. It'll save you a night from having to cook for my ass. Next time's on me."

He hummed in agreement into her skin. "I guess this is goodnight..." he said between kisses.

"Hmm, don't say that." Jules twisted in his arms, slipping her own under his jacket. "Stay the night?"

Matthew had clearly been anticipating this offer. "Alright, if you insist."

"I do. And it's a standing offer, I'll always insist you stay the night."

"Always?" Matthew teased.

"Forever and ever. Until you piss me off." Jules amended.

He kissed her, letting her play with his tongue and lips. "Another question..."

Jules sighed in exasperation. "Yes, I'd be thrilled to have sex with you."

Matthew took control. He held Jules up by her thighs, revealing a sinful amount of her legs. He smirked. "Had to ask."

"What are you, a vampire or something?"

He playfully bit her neck and shuffled into the small apartment.


	5. Chapter 5

May 5th 8:30 am-Eastland Apartments

Jules moaned softly. Her muscles tensed and relaxed as the sunshine seeped through her window, bathing her naked skin. She sank in her sheets, reveling in the feeling.

Matthew kissed his way up from between her legs. He licked and nipped his way to her lips.

"Have I mentioned how much I love waking up next to you?" Matthew whispered huskily into her ear.

"Mm," Jules hummed with pleasure. "Me too. But you're going to be late."

"Shh." Matthew kissed around her face. "How could I not stay with you a bit longer on a morning like this?" He proceeded to kiss her a bit more. "What time is it anyway?"

Jules wordlessly reached for her phone and lit the screen for him. "Didn't you say you had a project you had to work on today?"

Matthew squinted at the phone without his glasses. "Holy crap!" He rolled away from her and off the bed.

Jules enjoyed the show as he scrambled to get clean clothes from her dresser. He was so hot for a pencil pusher. He fumbled for the glasses on the nightstand.

"Sorry, I won't be able to make you breakfast today." He ran over to her side of the bed and hastily planted a kiss on her lips. "Tomorrow for sure. I'm not used to you still being here when I go to work."

"Bye. I love you," she said as Matthew prepared to rush out.

"Love you too! Bye!" he said as he ran out the door. Five seconds later, he ran back in, right back to Jules' side and held her face.

"And for God's sake be safe."

Matthew's sudden return made Jules a little startled. "I will," she assured him.

He placed one last prolonged kiss on her forehead then ran out again.

* * *

May 5th 9:00 am - La Vie en Rose Villas

"God damn it." Marianne twisted and turned trying to zip her dress up. She was starting to really regret letting Jules talk her into this. Still, she managed to look flawless despite all of the tech on her body and under her clothes. If she could only manage to get her zipper. As she looked in the mirror, she was starting to think she was jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.

She heard a honk outside. Carmen was here. Marianne did a couple of touch-ups to her lipstick and went outside.

"Isn't this exciting?" Carmen said as she drove to pick up Jules.

"That's one way to put it," Marianne sighed. She checked herself in the rearview mirror to make sure the open top of the convertible did nothing to her sleeked back bun.

"Well, I for one can't wait to be undercover."

"We've practically been undercover for the past two years. There's nothing fun about being undervalued."

Carmen scoffed. "When did you get so pessimistic?"

"It's not pessimism, it's realism. And speaking of realism..."

They pulled up to Jules' apartment building. She was waiting there dressed to the nines on business professional. Her pants were tight and figure-hugging. The jacket took full advantage of her mostly flat chest, making her look cool and sexy even if most of what was uncovered was bare.

"Francesca... Antonia," she acknowledged the pair, using their code names.

"Johanna." Marianne looked her over. "Where's your beau? Does he not want to see him off?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jules said flippantly. She slid her ponytail over her shoulder. "I'm a strong, independent lady who doesn't need a man."

"I take it that Johanna is single then," Carmen teased.

"She is. If the boss is as big of a sleazeball as Basch implied, I'll use that to get close."

"Trust me, relationship status means nothing to real sleazeballs," Marianne commented.

May 5th, 9:45 am- Kingdom Imports, Inc.

While Carmen was parking the car, Marianne and Jules had started towards the building from different directions. Marianne walked the sidewalk like a runway. She turned heads as she marched forward with a resting bitch face.

"I'm in front of the building. I'm heading in," Marianne said quietly to herself.

"I just found a spot, I'll be there shortly," Carmen reported over her earpiece.

Jules had gone in a few minutes earlier. According to the intel, the hiring event was supposed to start at 10 am. Marianne took the elevator to the top floor and found herself in a small lobby. There were a few other people waiting, looking at their phones, including "Johanna." Marianne went to the front desk.

The secretary looked like she was wearing a mask.

"I'm here for the hiring event," Marianne announced.

The mask on the secretary's face cracked for a moment. Her eyes flicked over Marianne with jealousy. It was a look Marianne was used to but this one seemed especially hostile. "Of course you are. You can sit with the rest. Mr. Kirkland will be out shortly."

Marianne took the seat right next to the desk. The secretary pretended to be preoccupied.

"Is he a good boss?" Marianne probed quietly.

"The best," she responded.

That confused Marianne. She couldn't tell if the girl was being sincere.

Not too long after, a man stepped through the door from the offices. Marianne fought a scowl when she saw him. She knew his type. Daddy's boy. Preppy. Private school and trust funds. Foreign education by the looks of it. Either that or he was newly immigrated. She'd be able to tell when she heard him speak. His suit was tailored to him impeccably. Despite this, his hair was not as well maintained. It was sloppily chopped, blond hair seeming to go in any such direction it chose, and she doubted that was a stylistic choice. His eyebrows were atrociously worse. She doubted they had ever been plucked a day in his life. Men.

The man surveyed the lobby. He seemed to take an extra moment to examine Marianne. She figured he would. She didn't bother looking away, locking his eyes in challenge. Daring him to just try to look at her like she was a piece of meat.

"Right, well this will just have to do."

As always, Marianne had been right. His British accent gave him away.

"You. You. You. And you," he pointed to Marianne last. "Come with me."

All the ones he had pointed to had been women. Jules had also made the cut. Carmen, however...

There was the sound of clicking heels running across the tiles.

"Whoo, I made it," Carmen said as she slid to a halt. She beamed at the man with her brightest smile.

The man looked her up and down with disdain. He looked at his watch.

"You're late," he retorted.

Carmen's face blanked in feigned or perhaps real shock. "I could have sworn I was right on time..."

"My business operates on the assumption that everyone has respect for their job and everyone else's time. Arriving on time is late. It proves you have the lack of forethought to prepare yourself for your best work. I have no need for that kind of worker."

The man was Mr. Arthur Kirkland. He seemed every bit the scumbag that Basch had described.

Marianne didn't chance a look back at Carmen as she had the rest of the selected entourage followed Mr. Kirkland. The majority of the office was divided into cubicles, from the workers she could see, the majority of the workforce were men. Which slightly contradicted Bosley's info. Mr. Kirkland didn't hire women for the majority of the work. Probably just primarily for secretary positions.

"I also have no need for workers who don't know their place. I need each of you to highlight your most useful skill. Go."

The first girl he looked at hesitated. "I...uh..."

"Thank you for your time. You're dismissed. Next."

Jules had no such restriction. "I have a photographic memory, sir."

Marianne winced internally. That was one of Jules' best resources. She had a nearly perfect recall for things she had seen. It made her an excellent officer. And spy. She may have given too much away.

"Very to the point. What is your name?"

"Johanna Munich, sir."

"We're currently working on getting some of our older records digitized. It is a task that has been grossly mishandled since the new age. I already have one person working on this, but progress is slow. I expect you to increase the rate by 150%."

"I'll make it 200."

"Cocky." Mr. Kirkland frowned. "But I'll take it if I see results. I'll have you work with Mr. Jones following orientation. Give me your resume."

"Next." Mr. Kirkland turned to the next.

"I'm really good at making coffee," she said a little desperately.

Mr. Kirkland smirked. "Cute. You're dismissed. Next."

"I'm organized and detail oriented. I've been a secretary twice before and both my bosses have given me glowing recommendations." She held out her resume to

Mr. Kirkland without being prompted.

He turned to Marianne last. "And what do you have to offer?"

"To you? Not much. If you want a secretary who can kiss your ass all day, you would have promoted internally. Say the gal in the lobby. I bet she'd do anything you'd ask." Marianne laid it on thick, probably dripping in too much cynicism. "But if you want to work with someone who can get this 'business' working optimally, get you the right impressions and connections, and won't trip over the nightmare of both managing you and your staff, let's just say I'm a professional."

Mr. Kirkland raised one eyebrow and smirked. Marianne could have sworn she felt something crawl up her spine.

Mr. Kirkland gave her Johanna's resume. "And what was your name?"

"Francesca Marseille."

"You'll find your desk outside my office. Drop the resumes off there and join Ms Diane, the lobby secretary, for a quick orientation. You'll be reporting directly to me from this point on. Ms. Munich and Ms. Marseille will be the only new hires today. Everyone else is dismissed."

As if everyone else wasn't just one person. She turned around in a huff and stomped out.

Marianne was fuming. She knew the mission was to get hired, but she would have loved for her and Carmen's situation to be switched.

"That was a close one!" Jules said as she walked with Marianne to orientation.

"Why did I get hired as a secretary and you get the records," Marianne complained.

"We need both business dealings and information about Arthur Kirkland. At least we've got the bare minimum covered. No thanks to Carmen," Basch said over their ear pieces.

"Guess I'll have to cover this from a different angle. I'll go after my own lead," Carmen replied, paying no mind to Bosley's slight.

"Be careful out there by yourself," Marianne said discreetly.

"Careful is my middle name!"

Careful was definitely not her middle name, but Carmen had a way to take care of herself even in the messiest of times.


End file.
